Salvation Theology
by magratj
Summary: Salvation is what we all seek, one way or another. Just another 'how they got together' story. GSR. Post Grave Danger, slight reference to season 7.


Disclaimer: I don't own CSI – might wish I did, but I don't.

Notes: I wrote this years ago, but stopped writing and being around the forums etc for a while. I recently found this old notebook with some stories in it, including this one. I might finish the others, haven't decided yet. Just my contribution to the 'how they got together' stories.

Big big thanks to Nikki for the beta. Any mistakes are mine.

Hope you enjoy.

Salvation Theology

Salvation Theology: Emphasis on the personal salvation through the acceptance of divine grace.

Once, she had thanked him for loving her despite her dark past. He had told her that it worked both ways. That she, through her persistence and constancy, had worn down these walls that told him he could not have her, that he should not have her. That as a result, he was not destined to the solitude he had always seen before him. So in truth, they had saved each other.

The thought turned his mind back to that night when she had offered him a salvation he had never known existed.

He wanted to sleep, needed to sleep, but found that he couldn't. They had been too close to losing Nick. Too close to having a gaping hole in his team. And too close to never being able to forgive himself. So he had gone back to the hospital, thinking that if he saw Nick alive, that it might mean he could sleep.

It seemed that Nick did not have a similar problem, although that was more than likely the drugs he was on. As his parents were in his room with him, Grissom politely inquired as to how Nick was doing before making his excuses. As he left the room, he noticed Sara sitting on the corridor, her head bowed in her hands.

'Sara?'

She looked up. 'Oh, hey Griss.'

'You been here long?'

'A bit – I didn't want to intrude, but . . .'

'Let me guess, you couldn't sleep?'

Sara shook her head.

'Me neither,' Grissom confessed. 'I thought if I saw Nick, then maybe . . .' he left the thought unfinished.

'I know,' Sara agreed.

Grissom sat down next to her. 'We were so lucky.'

'Yeah.'

There were silent for a long moment, before Sara looked at him, a speculative look on her face.

'Come for a walk with me?' she asked, standing.

'Where?'

'It's a secret. Follow me.' She held out a hand to him, an ever so slightly cheeky grin on her face.

He grinned back, accepting her hand.

'By all means, lead on then.'

She led him through a maze of corridors, and up a couple of flight of stairs. Finally they reached a fire exit.

'You can't tell anyone about this place,' she said as she pushed on the door.

He was quite simply amazed at what laid beyond. There, on this section of the hospital roof, someone had created a garden. The colour of it was amazing, from the various greens to the purple and red and yellow blooms that dotted the scene, as if a child had merely splashed their brush across the canvas. Several shade shelters had also been erected, with seats and tables underneath.

'This is for the staff,' Sara explained as Grissom looked around in wonder.

'How did you find out about it then?' he asked.

'Do you remember Pamela Adler?'

'Yes.'

'I used to visit her. One of the nurses showed me one night, when it got a little too much.'

'This is amazing. I never knew.'

'It's not for visitors – if they knew, the staff would never get any peace.'

They sat next to each other on a stone bench.

'Why did you bring me here?' Grissom asked.

Sara shrugged. 'It's better than sitting in that hospital corridor,' she said, 'particularly when . . .'

'When what?'

'Have you ever noticed that when you go through something like this, your senses seem to be on high alert? Every sound, every smell, seems so much more real?'

'The brain works different in times of stress,' Grissom conceded.

'Does yours?' Sara asked.

'I'd like to think that it doesn't, but I suspect it does.'

She glanced at him sideways. 'We can try an experiment,' she suggested, sounding slightly coy.

'What did you have in mind?' he asked, exhaustion making him through his usual caution to the wind.

'Close your eyes,' she instructed, turning so that she now straddled the bench, facing him.

'What's your methodology?'

'You'll see,' she grinned. 'Close your eyes,' she demanded again.

He turned slightly to face her and closed his eyes, making some show of humouring her.

For a moment, nothing, and he wondered what she was going to do. Then suddenly he felt her

fingers lightly touch his face, just below his ear, then back down his neck, under the line of his beard. He drew a sharp breath as she made her way back up to his check, then traced the outline of his mouth, careful not to touch his lips.

'Can you feel this?' she asked softly, as her fingers continued the exploration of his face.

'Yes,' he whispered, finding his resolve breaking as he silently willed her on.

'What does it feel like?'

He thought about her question for a moment before responding. 'Sweet acceptance.'

As her hand stilled he worried for a moment that it was the wrong answer, but then he felt her free hand pulling his hand up. She held it at the wrist, her thumb resting on his pulse point.

'Can you hear your heart beat?' she breathed.

He didn't realise it until then, but he could. It was beating faster and harder than he realised. He could almost hear the blood rushing through his body, excited by her alluring touch.

'Yes,' he whispered again.

'What do you hear?'

The sliding of her thumb over the sensitive skin of his wrist was almost too much for him as his heart raced faster.

'Deliverance.'

The hand that had been caressing his face found its way to his chin. Cupping it, she pulled him forward till he could feel her breath on his face.

Finally, he decided to stop being passive. He reached his hand out to her, finding his way through senses other than sight. He felt the soft silk of her hair. Tangling his fingers in her locks, he brought the hair closer to his face, inhaling the scent of her.

It was then that he realised he had always known her scent. The faint lavender had followed him around for years. Or maybe he had followed that scent. He wasn't certain anymore.

'What do you smell?' came the soft whisper.

He inhaled deeply.

'Forgiveness' he sighed.

He heard her brief moan then he felt her still. For a long moment, nothing. Then suddenly, softly, her lips glided over his, ever so gently kissing him. She didn't push, but held her ground, so there could be no doubt s to her meaning. As her tongue skimmed across his bottom lip he gave up, and opened his mouth to her. God help him, but she was sweetness and passion and desire and comfort. She had opened his senses and there she was, around him, in him, a part of him.

'What do you taste?'

It took a moment for him to realise she had pulled back, so caught up was he in what he was currently feeling. There was only one sense left he realised, so he opened his eyes and looked at her.

'Redemption.'

She smiled, but then surprised him by looking down and away from him. Taking the hand that was still in hers, he moved down to cup her face, bringing her gaze back to him.

'Why look away? You haven't asked me what I see,' he said.

'I think I've made my position clear,' she replied. 'You must know what I see. But I can't tell what you see. And I'm not sure I want to know.'

It stung him a little. That after all he had just shared with her, she couldn't tell.

But that was his own fault, wasn't it? Of course she didn't trust her reading of him – he had never let her be right. That ended now.

'Ask me Sara.'

She tilted her head as if thinking it over, then acquiesced. 'What do you see?'

Both hands now cupping her face, he held her gaze as he spoke. 'I see the most amazing, most beautiful women I have ever met. I see a woman of such great strength and courage that it humbles of me. I see such loyalty as a friend can only hope for. I see grace where others have faltered. I see intelligence with integrity. I see beauty unlike any I have ever known. I see love that is undeserved and forgiveness that is unwarranted . I see the future, my forever. I see redemption.

A strangled sob escaped her lips, and her eyes filed with tears.

'Well,' she said unsteadily, 'I guess my experiment worked better than expected.'

He grinned almost madly at her. 'Sweet Sara. After all I've done to you, how are you still here? What can I do that would even begin to make up for what I have done?'

'Tell me this is possible. Tell me we can do this.'

'Yes. A thousand times yes.' It almost broke him that she had lasted this long on hope alone. And now, she was prepared to give him so much more based on the little hope he had given her. 'Whatever you want, I'll give you.'

He had kissed her then, promising her everything in that kiss. She had only asked him to take her home.

And that was that. She'd barely left his place since. So he couldn't go home now. No, he needed to find her. To save her one last time.


End file.
